Enter the Varana Child

The boy, must have been running for miles. He was a slight creature, probally no more than twelve and even that was a long shot. He looked closer to ten with his sagging, muddy, bedraggled livery who'd seen better days. It took him a good five minutes to so much as draw the breath to hail the gaurds. "Her ladyship Verity Remona Varana sends a messege for Lady Mereavus Vorserkeine-Varana," So the boy wasn't a trained paige, but he was a messenger, or so said the wax sealed note. Purple wax, expensive beond beleif and even worse, gold eadged, perfumed, paper. Such an unlikely messenger; but the note was all the same: 'My Dearest Benefactor, It is with heavy heart that I write thee, for in this time, mine Lady Mother Linet Tenessa Ratclif has passed. I humbly request the shelter of your house, untill the time that I am able to legally able to take on the responsibilitys of the Varana estate. Yours sincerely, Lady Verity Remona Varana'

Mereavus received the note on her way out of the castle, having intended to go home after her duties were over. In this case, however, she quite clearly couldn't. She received the message with her usual regal nonchalance, opening it and wafting aside perfume with one hand - not a good smell for a pregnant woman, and by this point, which was four months, she was quite pregnant indeed. Though still not so much as one might expect, sporting only the mildest of bumps to attest to the fact. One eyebrow instantly shot up - the responsibilities of the Varana estate were now non existant. Varana no longer existed. It was now Alexston, and she was quite sure relaying that bit of information would be interesting. "How far behind you is your mistress?" she enquired of the messenger boy, absently passing him a gold coin whilst she carried on reading.

Verity, clearly, had a severe case of over-inflated ego, which honestly, wasn't shocking considering just who her mother was. The boy, visabally cowed by the advisor's presence, looked like he'd start crying at any second at the sight of that gold coin which he clutched to his chest like some kind of god send. "Abo-about an hour 'an a half m'lady," He stammerd, shakeing under the strain like an over worked carthorse. It well explained the usually neat penmanship's jump and blot across the page. The brat, hadn't even stopped to write her letter.

Mereavus passed him a sidelong glance, brow still lifted. "Goodness, child, try to relax," she told him. "The kitchen is to the left and downstairs, go and tell Osanna that you need feeding." She rolled the letter back up, slotting it into the immaculate cherry leather satchel she always carried with her. "I expect to be told when she arrives," she told the nearby guards. "I'll be in the parlour. Either send her to me, or send someone to get me. And do go and find Lord Alexston and inform him that I won't be home as early as I thought I would be, and to tell Tara to prepare dinner enough for at least ten people. And have him send a fresh horse." Once her orders were carried out, she was turning around, and heading back into the castle to find the place she'd said she would be, where she'd no doubt be found with a cup of tea.

The boy, offerd a shy, gaptoothed grin and stumbled off, manageing to look rather like a drunken beggar.....Which wasn't too far off as the cart thunderd through the gates not an hour later. There were four servants in all besides the messenger, a tall, stork like man with a hooked, beaklike nose, a pair of twins, who's faces, veiled as they were, sported telltale pock marks which they tried to cover with heavy, lead makeup and finally a deflated looking, ruddy faced woman who's obviously, up untill very recently, been quite stout....And then there was their mistress. Sitting at the back of the cart with a somewhat greenish tinge to her pale face and straw stuck to her rather plain, vaguely motheaten, black velvet dress which had been taken in more times than anyone could count. What were they? A pack of gypsies? No, they were the pack which marched purpousfully into the parlor, flanked by gaurds who did their damndest not to stare, smile, laugh, or roll their eyes. At their head, was the tall, impeccabally postured, Verity herself, cold, hard eyes appraiseing the room as a philosopher might look upon hell. "My Lady Mereavus," Her voice was poisoned candy, sweet, girlish and utterly direct in a deadily sort of way, aged well beond her scant fourteen years. She, was nothing like her mother....Yet.

Mereavus rose from her chair once she heard her name, sauntering around it to take in the visage of this child she'd been paying for, for fourteen years. Motheaten creature, wasn't she? Whether the Advisor was what the girl expected or not had yet to be seen. Taller than most women, no doubt much more attractive than her mother had claimed, and certainly a rather imposing woman in all of her red brocade and black wolf fur. Given that she'd been working, she was dressed to her best; golden pieces and rubies dangled out of a rather complex hairstyle that left several claret ringlets down either side of her face, and her throat was highlighted with a red satin choker that dangled a large, uncut ruby to the peak of her cleavage. "Verity," she greeted, one arm offered outwards in the typical gesture for a person to approach to be kissed on the cheek - though, she'd admit, she was loathe to. "My condolences on your circumstances."

Verity was somewhat shocked when the seated figure rose and turned. She was so young! and pretty even! And much, much taller than any woman had a right to be....Then again, she was rather inappropriately tall herself and she never, ever, hunched. Matilda, would have had twelve strokes. 'That woman' as Lynet had called her up untill her death, was litterally the oppisate of everything her mother had ever so much as utterd. Or was she? The Girl, did not come foward for the customary kiss upon the cheek which society expected for the woman she would, or rather, should, be calling 'mother' from now on. "Thank you for your kind words, my lady," One had to admit she was well spoken, if an increadibally cold, thing. "We have much to discuss," Clipped, and with a dismissive wave of her hand which sent the croud scutteling off like bugs under a rock.

Mereavus was hardly feeling young these days; so many women under twenty scurrying around the palace, and she at thirty-four (five, in a little over a month) felt much akin to a fossil. "Yes," she agreed, turning to go and lift her teacup from the table. "In your letter you mentioned inheriting Varana..." she left it hanging, as though expecting some elaboration. It was one of those things that passed through a political day, and she laughed at and dismissed. Illegitimate children had no rights. By right, her last name shouldn't even be Varana. The name no longer existed - one house was named that now, and that was all that would stand testimony to it ever having been there before. She had a few illusions to shatter before the girl stepped foot in her house; make no mistake, everything the Advisor had, was hers, and she could be rather territorial about it. The number of times she'd had to fake orgasms and swallow for these estates was beyond counting.

Verity gave the woman a most challengeing sort of look, pale hands clasped before her, blisterd, chapped and still stiff as could be. Yes, she was well aware she was a bastard...and she was also well aware that she very nearly wasn't. Mereavus may have been beautiful, but she wasn't tiney, blonde, demure Linet with her pale, girlish dresses and flawlessly coy attitude. That, was how one obtained a man. Certainly being tall, frigid and inheriently evil, didn't in the least win any man's heart. "Yes," She said, plainly enough, "As my father's only child, Varana is mine," Some logic the skinny little thing had wasn't it? "Upon such time as I am old enough to responsibally handle it's upkeep or have found suitable husband." Which was true, had she been legitimate and had the man's wife been dead and buried, rather than his mistress. But one couldn't fault the girl, it was all she'd been taught.

Mereavus' brow arched at the logic, and she took a relatively long sip of her tea until the stuff was gone. "Actually, legally, you have nothing to inherit," she answered, rather bluntly. "Contrary to your mother's beliefs, you have no legal rights as one of Remus' children. In the eyes of the law, you could be anyone's child, whether your mother claims his or not. I'm quite happy to believe her when she says he fathered you; but lawyers, my darling, won't be. Remus left me everything in his Will. And everything I had just passed on to be the property of my present husband, so everything that was Varana... Is now Alexston. Which is the legal inheritance of the child presently sitting in my stomach. So you will inherit whatever your mother left you, I will carry on paying the stipend until I die; and then you'll be left with whatever husband you find, and what he can give you." She paused, going over to a decanter of recently heated tea to pour herself a cup. "Would you like some tea?" Another pause whilst she waited for the answer, and then she glanced back to her. "Now, I'm quite happy to take you in as one of my children and help you find a suitable husband for a woman of my rank as opposed to one of yours. That's really going to be the only way you recover from this mess. Goodness, I don't know what your mother's told you."

Verity's face went ashen, to spite her neutral expression, ashen, and then pink as the advisor continued. Nothing? Nothing?! After all this, she had nothing? Pink turned to red and red turned nearly purple. Her father didn't even acknolage her...after all this. After all his stupid ten minute visits?! The toys, the trinkets, they'd all been lies? It couldn't be. It was though....He'd left everything to 'that woman' after all. What was more, Mereavus had the gall to re-marry! As far as she knew, the woman had locked herself away in a nunnery as was befitting a widow of her station and she would have damned well staied a nun even as a queen's advisor! No! She was with child by some...some...She'd never even heard the name 'Alexston'! He was probally poor, Her shoulders shook. A month's travel around bandit held lands to learn that god himself, had ruined everything. She'd sold off her inheritance, her last five servants staied because they had nowhere else to go and she was at the utter mercy of that woman. Purple.....and then back to her usual, blanched, coloring. She would deal with this. She would learn to rise above the woman her father hadn't even remotely cared for and she would secure herself a proper title, lands and go back to her life and how it ought to be. It would take time, cunning and patience, but she allready had one part of the list, so it was a start. "Yes, I would love some tea, mother," And not even Verity, known as 'the ice princess' by her staff, could keep the venom and humiliation out of her voice.

Mereavus' lips were touched with a mildly amused smile, and she turned back to the girl, whilst offering out her teacup. "Good," she answered - accepting the tea was one of those metaphorical acceptances, in her mind. "But one thing, darling, before we begin this whole loving family charade." She paused to sip her own tea, and then settled it in front of her, russets very clearly returning the challenge; one did not cross the Advisor, and Verity had yet to learn that. "I am not, and nor have I ever been, stupid. I'm likely a lot of things your mother told you I am. But it was by my order that Remus paid for you, by my order that you've had everything that you have. Your entire existence is indebted to me, and so help me, if you so much as breathe a word out of place in public I will have you packed off to a slum orphanage where I could well have let you rot as a child. You will get what you give with me; if you want to carry on being venomous, by all means, do. I can guarantee you, my dear, I will wipe the floor with you. Insects are venomous, not ladies. I'll give you access to all the world, if you let me; if not, no one will miss you. I won't pander to snide comments, and I won't spare you reprimand in front of everyone in this court. With that in mind, should you need anything, please do ask me. If someone has upset you, please do come and tell me. As I said, I'm happy to be as much a mother as you need me to be - but how far I go is entirely by your judgement."

Verity accepted the tea without a flinch. No, she was far too busy stareing down her new 'maternal' figure like a cat confronted with another of her kind. Charming. She'd worked hard to get to this woman, she reminded herself. She'd worked hard to keep the estate afloat and there was no reason, to give her father's wife reason to strip her of the last few scraps of her wealth and dump her out on the street. Not stupid, huh, she'd see about that. In her own experience, she was and had always been, far more inteligent than any of the adults around her, save for a scant few tutors who generally gave into her whims on the grounds of sheer ego. 'Access to all the world'? Not bloody likely, but she'd take what she could get at this point. She had fleas in her hair, she had blisters on her fingers and she was ready, to let this woman have her way for the time being. "I am in your debt," A much more schooled tone this time, though thoes grey eyes still snapped. To say she was 'proud' was a gross understatement. "And you shall have my cooperation," For the most part, it was all she could do to keep her teeth from grindeing.

Mereavus would have everything the way she liked it in her own house, and Verity would find both herself and her new paternal figure particularly difficult to dupe. The Advisor tended towards being the one who wore the trousers; Samuel was her wife, and she was the one who had things her way, she was the one whose way was the way. Largely because he loved her so much, really, and in her independence she'd come to have everything her way. Quite clearly, it had been similar with Remus. "Good," she answered, with what looked to be a perfectly genuine, warm smile. "In which case I'm sure we'll all get along wonderfully. My husband, Samuel, is the Royal Huntsman," she turned back to the chairs, gesturing for her to take a seat. "No doubt you'll meet him soon enough. We have three dogs; two wolf-bloodhound crossbreeds called Claudius and Jupiter, and one spaniel, Fletcher. Tomorrow morning we'll go to market and see about finding you a suitable horse, and I'll send for the dressmaker and jewelsmith. My manservant. Arthur, will no doubt help you with whatever you like, and the grounds have an archery range and falconry compound, and a yard for fencing, if any of those take your fancy. When I say you may have what you like, I mean that quite genuinely. I'd rather you lived comfortably."

Verity was again, haveing trouble hideing her shock, though lord knew she was doing an admirable job of it. She just.....let everything go like it was nothing. One second a battle of the wills and the next, she was playing as if nothing at all had happend! Woe be to the girl for haveing her own tricks plaied upon her, though at least now she was in no danger of snapping and breaking a molar. The huntsman? This time her jaw did drop. The new lord of everything that ought to have been her's was a servant? She quickly shut her mouth and sipped at her tea, wishing it was something stronger. Oh and they had dogs. She narrowly avoided wrinkeling her nose at that one. Great, and she supposed the dogs slept in the master bed? What next? They lived in a hut in the woods? A cave maybe? Howling at the moon? She sat, primly as you please, not a fold of her dress out of place, hell, even the bits of straw seemed to be in order. Was the child boren with a stick up her arse? Most likely. Any snippets about the girl's mother were that she was a merchant's daughter who was pretty sure her beauty entitled her to just about everything the world had to offer. That, and she had exactly enough commen sence to coat the end of a pin. That was about it. Promices of new clothes, a horse and jewlery and near complete freedom to do the things her mother had adhored didn't seem to phaze the girl, who by now, just looked exhausted. Seemed that sitting down had cut out all the self rightous rage she'd been running on. "Thank you my lady," Verity, did not mumble, but she did, sound suitabally distracted. "My servants will bring allong what's left of our things," Another sip. "I'm afraid the estate's been stripped of my mother's things as well as most of the heirlooms, I offer my most sincere apoligies on the matter."

Mereavus made a vaguely nonchalant gesture towards the 'things' - she didn't particularly want Remus' mistress' things littered around her home (oddly enough, the home Verity had been born in, stick up her arse or not - and likely had no idea about), and a few merchant's trinkets weren't going to add to her coffers. She'd probably paid for most of it, anyway. "Oh, don't worry about that," she answered. "Hardly anything to apologise for." She eyed the girl in a rather appraising fashion; posture was good, she could work with that. Once the fleas were combed out and she was suitably clothed she might be presentable as her daughter. Might. Her demeanour would need sanding down, no doubt with a few good whacks of the Advisor's temper. "We'll go back shortly, the manor is about an hour out of the city. You were born there, oddly enough. I'll have Amiel set up a room for you, and see about a bath. I'm sure we have some clothes somewhere that will do until the dressmaker comes. Usually Samuel's out all day working, and I'm ordinarily found here in the Chamber if you need me. Tomorrow's a quiet day, though, so we can go through the necessaries and hopefully get your settled in quite nicely. Is there anything you feel you need, or want?"

Verity indeed, had no idea that the house she was boren in wasn't but a short ride away. Lord knew she would have gone there instead, rather than makeing a scene at the castle. Oh yes, she'd no doubt have to deal with a flock of stupid, gossiping little ladylings going on about the sad state of her arrival. Then again, since when had she ever needed friends? All she needed was the approval of thoes above her. No one else, matterd. No one else, had ever matterd. "Thank you my lady, you're most gracious, I require only a hot meal," Everything else, her servants would see to. That was....if they disided to accompany their rather young mistress.